


The Pull of the Moon

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lucius Malfoy, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Hair-pulling, Infidelity, M/M, Male Slash, Outdoor Sex, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Rare Pairings, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scenting, Slash, Top Bill Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Bill hasn't told many people about what Fenrir Greyback's attack did to him the night Dumbledore died, but the changes are... well they're something he's learned to live with. He thought so anyway. When he encounters Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley, something inside him awakens unexpectedly.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Bill Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28
Collections: Tag(line) You're It! Competition





	The Pull of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> "You can erase someone from your mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story." (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)
> 
> Thank you to the moderators for putting on this fest! Writing this was a lot of fun. I had been looking for an excuse to write this pairing for a while. And thank you to my lovely beta Redacted who helped me with this fic!
> 
> Please note that this story is told in partial flashback.

Lucius leans against the wall of his Gringotts vault; well a lesser one, one that had come from his father's side of the family. He thinks. No, he's sure of it. Not that it matters. He has no less than twelve of these such vaults, and all that really matters is that this particular vault is filled with dangerous, dark, and dusty antiques that have to be cleansed and catalogued before they can be sold.

"Would you stop that please?"

Lucius pauses. He hadn't even realized that his cane had been tap-tap-tapping away on the stone floor impatiently.

"My apologies," he replies smoothly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

The man who had snapped at him only lifts his eyes for a moment, glaring balefully before returning to his work. Lucius returns to being bored, spinning his cane idly this time as he watches the subtle wandwork over a necklace that he thinks once belonged to his great-great-grandmother.

"Mr. Malfoy," his companion begins, quite clearly attempting to rein in his building irritation. "It really isn't necessary for you to remain. If you have other, more important things to attend to-"

"Oh, I have no pressing engagements at present," Lucius replies, cutting him off. "Carry on."

The way the other man clenches his jaw, the muscles jumping beneath the skin amuses Lucius to no end. He wonders how much longer he'll bite his tongue and allow this to continue.

"Mr. Malfoy..."

Hmm. Not long, it would seem. Brash Gryffindor impatience.

"Yes?" Lucius' voice is like honey: rich and smooth as it drips from his tongue.

"If the quality of my work is not to your liking-"

Lucius stops spinning his cane, and turns his full attention on the man before him, flashing a grin that is as predatory as it is amused.

"It's nothing of the sort, William."

That muscle in his jaw ticks again, and Lucius has to suppress the urge to laugh.

"No one calls me that."

"Yes, I'm aware," Lucius replies airily. "The calibre of your work is beyond question. After all," he says, stepping forward and circling around behind him, "Gringotts has a reputation to maintain, and the goblins do not suffer incompetent fools."

"Then you're here because my family-"

Lucius stops and gazes intently at the scarred face before him. 

"We both know why I'm still here, William," he whispers, reaching up to run a finger across a prominent slash on a sharp cheekbone.

Weasley clears his throat, his gaze dropping and shifting from Lucius' own, and he takes a step back to put a bit of distance between them.

"Is that a 'No' then?" Lucius asks, arching a brow.

"I'm not sure what you're playing at, Mr. Malfoy, but I have a family. You do as well."

Genuine confusion creeps across Lucius' face at this statement. "My apologies. Perhaps I misread…"

But no. How could he have?

"It's not a problem," Weasley assures him. "Shall we continue?"

Lucius nods absently as Weasley turns back to his work. There is absolutely no way he could have misread anything. He dips inside Weasley's mind as gently as he can, and finds not a trace of what he expected to find.

The obliviation, whoever had done it, was thorough. Nearly seamless. If Lucius hadn't known what he was looking for, he might not have known anything was missing at all.

As it so happened, he does know, and he seethes with rage at what it means.

\---Three weeks earlier---

Bill Weasley leans back in his chair, the sun warming his scarred face. He glances down at his melting ice cream and pushes it away with a sigh. His eyes roam around the small patio in front of Fortescue's, taking in the half dozen tables and the other customers enjoying their treats. He's tucked into the corner table, back to the brick building. Old habits were hard to break, and Moody's training was still thoroughly ingrained in him.

He hates this time of the month, when the moon fattens, and the things he loves no longer satisfy the way they did before. He's grown used to the cravings. 

Almost. 

He can do a bloody steak, no problem, but when the moon is full? He needs it raw. It never seems to turn his stomach in the moment, but after…

His gaze lands on his table mates, an indulgent smile softening his features. Fleur is poking tiny spoonfuls of her own sweet treat into their daughter's mouth. It dribbles down her tiny chin, and she coos happily at the taste of the ice cream on her tongue.

A breeze stirs his hair, and his focus shifts. Bill takes a deep breath, catching a multitude of scents in the air. It's one of the strangest parts about the changes he's gone through since Greyback, the way his senses have heightened. One combination in particular stands out above the others.

It's an odd mixture of cheap cologne that burns his nostrils, and the wildly expensive stuff they sell in the same stores where Fleur shops. And there's something else too tangled up in it, an acrid, musky scent. It's almost like-

Sex.

No, that's exactly what it is.

Bill starts with the realization, glancing at his wife but she isn't paying attention. His head whips about, searching for the source, and Lucius Malfoy is walking by, not five feet from him. Malfoy’s face is flushed, and Bill takes another deep breath, scenting him as he walks by. The musk, two distinct flavors, is unmistakable, and Malfoy is walking in the opposite direction from Knockturn Alley.

Bill turns back to his wife and daughter, but he's already getting up out of his chair. He's not exactly sure why. Like his change in diet and heightened senses it's not something he can explain, but an irrational surge of possessiveness takes root inside him.

"I should get back to work," Bill hears himself say, knowing that's not where he's going. He leans over to kiss Fleur's cheek, strokes a hand fondly over Vic's baby-soft hair. "I'll see you at home."

Without another word, he's stalking down the street, following Malfoy's distinctive blonde head... at a respectable distance, the instinctive need to stake his claim growing stronger with each step.

\---That night---

Lucius wakes with a start, sitting bolt upright. In an instant he is alert, wand at the ready as he throws back the covers and quickly slips on a dressing gown and pair of trousers. He had thought the harrowing days of constant vigilance were long past with the war's end. The last Ministry raid on his estate had been over a year prior. 

Why then were the Manor's wards screeching unholy hell in the middle of the night? 

He closes his eyes and pulls at the ancient magic of the house, and frowns. There's a breach on the eastern border of the estate, but he can't tell by what. If it were an animal he wouldn't have been alerted. It's definitely something else.

Lucius opens his eyes, grips his wand tighter, and turns on the spot.

The ancient trees are so thick on this section of the grounds that they choke out the light from the full moon above. Lucius stands perfectly still, giving his eyes time to adjust to the darkness. He scans his surroundings, spots movement to his left, and presses back against a gnarled oak.

He isn't close enough to discern its form, but it walks upright, which eliminates a few possibilities. His steps are careful, quiet, as he stalks closer, staying as low and hidden as possible. Lucius hunts the intruder for a good fifteen minutes. He's not so out of practice that he's forgotten all he knows, but it stays well ahead no matter the tricks he employs.

This part of the woods is darker, even more densely packed. Lucius stops suddenly, going stiff as a rogue beam of moonlight catches the intruder's face. "Weasley?" he whispers in disbelief. Yes, it is; the handsome one he's noticed at Gringotts, even with the scars. But why-

Lucius looks skyward towards the silvery orb hidden by the trees. Lucius grinned in the darkness. The scars… He had long wondered what effects Weasley might be living with after Greyback's attack. Weasley was far from the first to be marked by the wolf, and there were rumors about what could happen, but Weasley had shockingly kept his changes quiet. 

Until now.

He begins to follow again. Weasley clearly thinks he's leading him somewhere, and if it's for the reason Lucius suspects… Well, he's perfectly fine with playing at being prey if that's what it takes, if the man  _ needs _ to hunt.

Another ten minutes and he's lost track of Weasley, so the snap of a branch behind him is a surprise. A solid mass barrels into him, knocking him to the ground, and sending his wand skittering. 

He lunges after it, hands scrabbling in the wet leaves as he assumes he's meant to, looking for all the world like he's trying to recover his wand and get away, and Weasley is latching onto his ankle, dragging him backwards, small stones and sticks cutting into his skin.

Weasley's hand wraps around the back of his neck, pressing his cheek into the cold, wet dirt below. Lucius squirms as Weasley bends down over him, breathing in deeply next to his ear. He's scenting him, and more. Lucius can feel his hardening cock against his arse and he presses back against it. He is manhandled onto his back, a strong hand gripping the front of his throat tightly, and he's staring up into Weasley's dimly lit face.

The man is clearly drunk on moonlight, as they say, his basest instincts to mate taking over and easily manipulated as a result. Weasley leans down again, pressing his nose to Lucius' neck, and follows the line of his throat down over his bare chest, and-

Lucius' breath hitches.

His blood runs south as the man on top of him nuzzles at the growing bulge in his trousers with a small, satisfied sound. Hands are tearing at his clothing suddenly, stripping him with an urgency bordering on desperation. Lucius releases a strangled cry, bucking up towards the wet heat swallowing him down. His fingers dig into Weasley's fiery, red hair and hold on tight. He is gasping for air, moaning his pleasure into the night, and his eyes roll back as he fights against the need to come.

Before he can lose himself completely, Weasley's mouth is gone, the air cooling his spit-soaked cock. Weasley shoves at his shoulder, turning him onto his knees. A hand on the back of his head forces him down.

"Stay." It's growled low in his ear, and Lucius realizes it's the first thing Weasley has said since he encountered him. He is panting with need, has no plans to go anywhere. His dressing gown is rucked up over his back. He is bare save for the gown. The grass and leaves beneath him are wet. Cold. Weasley's thumbs are steel as they pry him open, and Lucius tenses when he shoves his face between his cheeks, snuffling noisily.

Lucius' fingers dig into the earth, clawing for purchase, and he whimpers and moans when large, calloused hands dig into the creases of his thighs to keep him still. Weasley breathes deeply and growls, releasing that breath in a scalding huff. The tongue that stabs into him without warning is hotter still, delving deeper than any tongue before. Weasley is relentless, nipping at him roughly, tugging at the sensitive skin of his hole with blunt teeth. 

This rough treatment finally pulls a cry of pure need from his throat. Lucius is impossibly hard, his heavy cock dripping all over the ground beneath him. He pants and shivers as Weasley pushes away from him, the night air blowing cold against his abused hole. The clink of a buckle and whirr of a zipper are loud in the forest, both sounds he's been waiting to hear. Lucius nearly chokes on his own tongue when Weasley buries himself balls deep with a grunt, pausing only long enough to savor the way Lucius involuntarily clenches around him before he's fucking him hard and deep, the slap of skin and heavy breathing the only sounds in the night.

A particularly hard thrust makes him cry out, his mouth filling with mud as Weasley's hand fists at the base of his skull and he shoves him more forcefully into the ground. In the moments before his groin tightens painfully and he blacks out, coming untouched, Lucius imagines he hears a low voice hissing  _ "Mine" _ in his ear.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hang on! I'm coming!" Charlie shouts, stomping towards the door. It's too fucking early for this shit. 

He flings it open. 

"Bill?" he says in shock. "What- how did you-"

"I need your help." Bill is agitated as he enters the flat, a haunted look in his eyes that Charlie hasn't seen in years. "God Charlie, I've fucked everything up."

He locks the door, following Bill into the living room. Bill drops onto his sofa, head in his hands, and Charlie takes note of the state of his clothing. "Is it Fleur? Vic? What's happened?"

"No, they're fine," he mumbles, but doesn't elaborate.

"Bill, just tell me," he pleads. "Is it- does it have to do with what that bastard Greyback did to you?" 

Bill finally lifts his head and looks at him, and Charlie gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Fleur was the only other person who knew how hard Bill's recovery had been, and even she didn't know the full extent of what he had gone through. 

Charlie did.

"A full moon?" It isn't really a question.

Charlie shudders, recalling the mutilated deer. "Have you been… hunting again?" He still doesn't know how Bill brought it down.

Bill's voice nearly breaks. "I fucked Lucius Malfoy."

Charlie shakes his head slowly as time stops. It isn't even close to what he expected to hear. "Are you sure?" he asks, rather lamely, he realizes.

"I woke up next to him in the woods. It's pretty fucking obvious what happened!" Bill shouts angrily.

"Okay!" Charlie drops into his worn armchair with a heavy sigh. "What about Malfoy?"

Bill shakes his head. "He was still out."

"Fuck, Bill… why? Or do you even know?"

"He smelled…" Bill shakes his head as though trying to dispel the memory. "It was a fluke of the moon. It doesn't matter why. I just need you to take away the last twenty-four hours, and then it won't matter."

"Oh no," Charlie argues. "This isn't like hunting deer. Obliviation is dangerous, and what about Malfoy? You won't even know he's coming after you!"

"He won't," Bill insists. "He has his own secrets. He won't risk it, and he won't want anyone to know."

Bill is adamant, but Charlie isn't sure.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucius awakens stiff, naked save for the dressing gown tangled about his shoulders. He lays still, shivering on the cold ground as feeble rays of sunlight filter through the trees. He's never found himself in this position before.

That the young, unassuming William Weasley who nods politely and continues his work at Gringotts would have it in him, to give him something he has long craved… Lucius takes stock of the cuts and bruises and the dried mud and fluids caked onto his skin. None of his purchased bedmates have ever left him so utterly ruined. 

He finds his feet with a sharp gasp, knees buckling as he stands. Weasley had been animalistic rather than brutal, but Lucius thanks Salazar for his unplanned visit to Knockturn Alley that afternoon before encountering Weasley. The man would likely have torn him otherwise, but he can't say he would change a thing about their encounter, and he can't help but wonder when he'll experience it again.

\---Four weeks after Gringotts---

Bill adjusts his tie. Fancy affairs had never been his forte, even before the change. Now he downright hates them. Fleur loves them though, and he puts up with them for her. With Vic so young they rarely have a night to themselves, and he knows Fleur needs it.

"There you go." George pins a little disc onto his jacket, pulling him out of his conversation with Harry and Neville. Bill frowns down at it while George pins another onto Harry. There's only a number 6 on it.

"What's this then?" Harry asks, inspecting the number 4 on his. 

"It's for the auction," George exclaims. "Sorry Neville. Could only afford two entries."

"The bachelor auction? They're both married, George!" Ginny's voice is a bit shrill, but Bill echoes the sentiment.

George is still grinning broadly. "It's for a good cause, and anyway, I've got it all planned out. The shop will place the winning bid on both of you, and I can write it off! Charitable contribution."

"And what must they do for this?" Surprisingly, Fleur doesn't seem as upset as Ginny.

"Nothing serious. Usually just twelve hours of time. Complete a task. That's what they've done before anyway. You can just help in the shop for a day."

"Hang on. So, you volunteer us," Harry pipes in, "and you get free labour?"

George scoffs at the question. "Free? You have any idea how much you two are going to cost me?"

Bill and Harry look at each other with exasperation. Clearly George isn't seeing it from their perspective.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill catches Fleur's eye as he steps on stage, giving her a small wave. Viktor Krum, number 5, slaps him on the shoulder, wishing him luck. Being a former Quidditch star, he had brought in a sizable donation, but of course, no one had topped the "boy-who-lived" and likely no one would. Bill chuckles wondering if George thinks it's still worth it.

He's standing between Ginny and Fleur, waving his auction card excitedly. Bill doubts he'll set George back much more than the starting bid. The auctioneer's assistant is deep in conversation with him, and they both glance over. Bill knows he's not much to look at with the scars, but still. It's a bit rude.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer begins. "We'll be closing out the bidding on number six. There's been an exceptionally generous offer by an anonymous donor."

The whispering starts almost immediately. Bill cocks his head at George, imploring him to do something. He only shrugs back, not sure what to do.

Bill tries to appeal to the auctioneer. "So, you won't let anyone even try to outbid this person?"

"I'm afraid it won't matter." He hands over a small envelope. There's a bit of parchment with instructions and…

_ That's a lot of fucking zeroes, _ Bill thinks to himself.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fleur has already headed home for the evening. George has tried to apologize. Profusely. Bill has assured him that it's fine, reassured Fleur that the Ministry wouldn't allow anything illegal to occur. He's not so convinced himself, and he clutches his instructions nervously as he fidgets with his tie and prepares himself to meet this anonymous donor.

Bill turns the handle, opening the door of the small Ministry office and enters as instructed. The room is mostly dark when he steps inside, a dimly-lit figure leans against a desk, and he shuts the door, his gut churning with the finality of it. He has no idea what to expect. 

"Good evening, William."

It's been weeks since he's seen him at Gringotts, but he knows that voice. "Mr. Malfoy? Why?"

"Do sit." Malfoy gestures to the sofa in front of him, ignoring the question.

Bill flops down where indicated, looking up at Malfoy with something like suspicion. "I won't do anything illegal for you, just so you know."

"Of course not," Malfoy laughs, and moves to sit beside him. Bill isn't sure what he finds so funny. "No, I have a couple of cursed trinkets, and I thought perhaps a house call. You are, after all, an incredibly gifted curse-breaker."

Instead of using the bank. It's not really out of the ordinary. Bill nods. "Is that it?"

"Actually, I wanted to know more about you, William." He lifts a hand to touch his cheek. "And about these."

Bill shifts away slightly. "What about them?" He's not particularly fond of his scars, though he can't say that's entirely the reason his heart suddenly beats faster.

"I've heard rumors about how that type of injury can affect a person. Would you say that you've noticed a difference?" 

Several.

"Are there things you find yourself wanting now that are, perhaps, new for you?"

The slow, soft way Malfoy speaks is mesmerizing, and when he tilts his head slightly, baring his throat, it awakens a primal need inside him. 

_ Take _ , it says. 

_ Subdue _ , it screams.

Before Bill quite realizes it, his hand is in Malfoy's hair and he's leaning forward to press his nose into the curve of his neck. Malfoy releases a little noise and practically offers himself. A hazy memory of the heady scent of the man's arousal shakes loose in his brain. Malfoy's hand is on his thigh, inching higher. Bill nips harshly at Malfoy's throat. He feels his pulse rush faster, hears the man's breath stutter and he licks his bruising skin possessively.

Malfoy doesn't say anything else. He just unzips Bill's trousers. Bill can't look away as Malfoy slides to his knees in front of him, but he can't keep eye contact as the man's hand circles the base of his cock and his tongue licks around the head. Bill's head thumps against the back of the sofa, and a memory of the way Lucius Malfoy's body felt against his own washes over him as Lucius' lips slide over the head of his cock.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You can't keep doing this, Bill," Charlie says to him, but steps aside and lets him into his flat. "It's not fair to Fleur, and it's dangerous to boot. Multiple  _ Obliviations _ -"

"Just don't, Charlie! I know the risks."

Bill knows he's not thinking clearly, but right now all he wants is to forget the feeling of his fingers in Malfoy's hair, to forget the way he didn't even protest when he came straight down his throat with a growl, and most of all, to forget the way his submission calls to the basest parts of himself.

\---One week after the fundraiser---

He's dressed professionally when he comes through the Floo, though his long hair hides the scars on his face.

"Afternoon, William."

Lucius catches the way he starts at the familiarity in his voice, and he suspects- no he knows that Weasley hasn't forgotten everything this time.  _ Obliviation _ can be such a fickle bit of magic to get right, especially on subsequent attempts.

"Afternoon, Mr. Malfoy."

"If you'll follow me, then," and he turns to lead the way.

"I do apologise that it's taken so long. I didn't realize until your owl came. I don't really remember much from the fundraiser."

"A shame. As I recall, it was a lovely evening," Lucius replies, smirking with his secret knowledge.

"You know my services aren't worth what you paid. You could have just used the bank."

Lucius spins about, stopping Weasley in his tracks. "I decide what's worth my time and money. I decided on you."

This close, Weasley fidgets nervously. Lucius can see his nostrils flare. "I suppose it was for a good cause."

Lucius nods. "Quite." He turns again. "And I'd rather the goblins not be made aware of these particular artefacts. You understand."

Only half true, but Weasley doesn't need to know that. He leads the way into the Rose parlour, and Weasley immediately makes his way over to a Goblin-made suit of armour and gets to work.

Lucius observes quietly for a while. The man is truly good at his work. He's almost disappointed that he's here on false pretenses. There are other bits in his collection that could use the attention too. He moves closer, peering over Weasley's shoulder. "Has curse-breaking always been your passion?"

Weasley jumps, startled by his proximity. "One of the few things I'm good at."

"You sell yourself short. I enjoy watching you work." His hand clasps Weasley's shoulder and Lucius smiles at the way he unconsciously leans into it. 

He's been doing well to ignore the mounting tension between them, but Lucius knows from their first encounter, and their second, how much scent drives Weasley's baser instincts. Weasley has been scenting Lucius' arousal since he stepped through the Floo. Just being in the same room has slowly been breaking Weasley down, but this close it's overwhelming, and it shows.

He drops his hand, and lets Weasley get back to work, biding his time for now.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill struggles to concentrate. Malfoy is much too close, but it's his house, and Bill doesn't want to admit that he's flustered. If Malfoy decides to rescind his donation because he thinks he's incompetent it would be absolutely humiliating.

He bends to focus on his work, but he can't manage to block out everything. It's mostly Malfoy's slow, even breaths, his heightened senses picking up the sound easily, but what distracts him the most is how familiar Malfoy's cologne is. He knows that scent. Bill tells himself it's from when he's been shopping with Fleur, but he has no good explanation for why he's half hard as he breathes the man in.

The armour takes him the rest of the afternoon, the protection spells some of the best he's seen. Malfoy offers him dinner and Bill accepts, his stomach rumbling at the thoughts of the sort of meal Malfoy could offer him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The answer, of course, was excellent.

Bill tries to not moan obscenely at the way the filet mignon melts in his mouth. It's perfectly cooked too, a feat made nearly impossible by his exacting tastes which isn't common knowledge. He wonders how Malfoy knew.

Malfoy is sitting across from him at the other end of the massive dining table. His steak is overdone by Bill's standards. The wine he's drinking smells overly sweet. Bill much prefers his beer, and he drains his glass as he swirls the last bite of his steak in the puddle of bloody juices on his plate.

He sits back sated, taking a moment to enjoy the meal before he has to get back to work. Malfoy dabs at his lips, standing to exit the room, and Bill follows quickly before he gives in to the urge to lick his plate clean.

Up several flights of stairs, and down twisting hallways, they finally arrive at an ornately carved door. Its hinges don't even protest when Malfoy pushes it open despite its size. Bill takes two steps into the room and nearly stumbles.

"Oh Merlin…"

"Is something amiss?" Malfoy sounds way too innocent.

"The artefact?" Merlin, Bill hopes it isn't in here.

Malfoy pulls him upright, hands moving all over him. "You can't have really been that naive."

"Mr. Malfoy-"

Malfoy's hands grasp either side of his head, and he leans in, crushing their mouths together. His tongue prods, pushing between his lips, the flavor of the wine Malfoy drank invading his mouth.

"Isn't it about time you used my name?" he whispers, nipping at his lip before he kisses him again.

_ Lucius _ , Bill thinks with a groan. Lucius tastes decadent, that too-sweet wine the perfect flavor on his tongue and Bill chases it, kissing him back. He pushes Lucius backwards, shoving him down onto the bed and crawling on top of him. The sheets are clean, but the scent of self-pleasure lingers in the air, driving Bill to tear Lucius' shirt down the middle with a low snarl.

" _ Yes _ ," Lucius hisses, stripping his ruined clothing with hurried movements, his eyes drinking in the sight of Bill methodically removing his own clothing. They're both naked, and Bill grips the backs of Lucius' knees roughly, pulling his legs around his waist. 

Lucius is more than willing, bucking his hips with a moan to rub their hard cocks together. Bill reaches a hand between them, wraps his fist around both their straining erections and begins to jerk them off. A feral grin splits his face when Lucius throws his head back and gasps.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill zips up his jeans as quietly as he can, searching around for his missing sock. He might have to leave it behind. He glances at the bed, at the man in it. The sheets ride low around Lucius' waist, exposing his pale, bruised back and shoulders. Bill has a sick feeling in his stomach. He turns away.

"Sneaking off so soon, William?" 

Bill tenses at the sound of Lucius' sleep-roughened voice, looks back over his shoulder to see Lucius sit up, looking for all the world like some debauched god with his hair mussed in the morning light and his skin littered with the evidence of Bill's indiscretion.

"It was a mistake." Bill buttons up his shirt, shrugging into his jacket almost angrily.

Lucius flashes an indulgent smile. "And yet you keep making it."

Bill turns his back on Lucius, preparing to walk out. It was a fluke. Nothing more than insanity. He was lying. 

And then his next words halt Bill's escape. "You can erase someone from your mind, William. Getting them out of your heart is another story entirely."

Bill sinks to sit on the foot of the bed, staring helplessly out the window at nothing as the meaning behind Malfoy's words becomes clear to him. His heart aches as he realizes what he's done, and he wonders how many times he's done it.


End file.
